Eximere (The River Book 4) by Michael Richan Page A

Roger said. He seemed a little fidgety.
    “You look nervous,” Steven said.
    “I don’t usually come here,” Roger said. “People around here
still think of me as a drunk.”
    “You don’t seem like a drunk to me,” Steven said. “You seem
like you’re put together.”
    “Two years sober,” Roger said. “But it takes a long time to
change a reputation in a small town. To them I’ll still be a drunk ten years
from now.”
    “You lived here long?” Steven asked.
    “My whole life,” Roger said. “Except for college. Met my wife
at college, then we moved here when my parents passed away, left us the house.
Got three kids.”
    “How long ago were you a guide at the Unser house?” Steven
asked.
    “Five years,” Roger said. “Everyone in town was excited when
they started opening it for tours. We figured it’d revitalize the town. Hell,
Percival promised it would. If you haven’t met him yet, you should look him up,
he knows a lot about the place too. He talked Brenda and I into a ten year
lease for that shop, so we could take advantage of all the new tourism. What a
mistake that was. But Brenda enjoys running it, so we keep it going. Don’t come
close to breaking even though. I like having the shop in the back.”
    “How did you wind up giving tours there?” Steven asked.
    “Again, Percival,” Roger said. “They were keen on trying to
hire locals for most of the work there. One thing he did right, I guess. I’m
one of maybe three people in this town with a BA, so I was a shoe-in for the
job when I applied. It was decent money while it lasted.”
    “How long before they stopped the tours?”
    “Only a year, then they shut it down. Not enough people came.
Percival said the lawyers shut it down because it wasn’t turning a profit, but
I think there might have been other reasons.”
    “Like?”
    “Well, there’s a lot of crazy shit up at that place, and I
think the lawyers knew it, and they weren’t really comfortable with people
poking around.”
    “Ah, like a conspiracy?” Steven asked.
    “Not a conspiracy, just a desire to keep things quiet. No
sense in stirring things up unnecessarily. I think the tours made them
nervous.”
    “And Percival? What did he think?”
    “Oh, he was on a mission. He was going to turn the town
around, and the house was going to do it. You could see the dollar signs in his
eyes. He was devastated when the lawyers shut it down. Went into a depression,
no one saw him in town for months. I was depressed too. Took up the bottle.”
    “Tell me more about the house,” Steven said. “You said there
were some crazy things there?”
    “It’s a strange place,” Roger said. “Bizarre. Doors that are
sealed shut. Not just locked, but painted shut. Hidden rooms. Secret passages.
There’s a library with sliding panels, right out of a movie. We used to
demonstrate that one on the tour.”
    Didn’t see a library, Steven thought. But then, we didn’t explore the whole
house.
    “And like any old house with a history,” Roger said, “it’s
haunted.”
    “Really?” Steven said, feigning surprise. “How so?”
    “Every morning Mrs. Unser arises from her grave and walks
through the house to her bedroom, on the second floor. Then she stands by the
window in that room, looking out over the front yard. And every night she
leaves the room, and goes back down to her grave.”
    “You actually saw a ghost?” Steven said, sounding incredulous
in order to prod Roger further.
    “No, I never saw her myself,” Roger said. “Other people said
they had seen her. Tour hours were from 10am to 4pm, so we were never there at
dawn or dusk. I wanted to see it, but they were strict about people leaving the
property right at 4.”
    “I did see the stairs,” Steven said. “Kent Percival took us
out there yesterday, so we had a look around. I didn’t see a library, but I did
see the stairs.”
    “Did you see her?” Roger said. “Mrs. Unser?”
    “No,” Steven lied. He wanted